


The Forbidden Weapon

by ilovelegendsalot



Series: Red X [3]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Teen Titans (Animated Series), Teen Titans (Comics), Teen Titans - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Angst, Animal Abuse, Animal Death, Gen, Humor, Jason Todd is Red X, Lazarus Pit, Pit Madness, Swearing bc Jason, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-08-18
Packaged: 2020-03-01 11:33:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 21,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18799513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovelegendsalot/pseuds/ilovelegendsalot
Summary: Having successfully stolen and repaired the Red X suit, Jason continues to further his plans.  This brings him to a coastal town in Mexico where a vicious gang is terrorizing the locals.  His plans to stop them takes an unexcepted turn when some unexpected arrivals show up.  He alters the plan accordingly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So this is the third part in a Red X series I have going on. You don't necessarily need to read the two previous stories, I think I cover the vital information for this story in the story, but you'll probably get a lot more out of it by reading the previous two and you'll have the backstory for what is going on. At the moment, this looks like it will probably be a 4 chapter story. It will only get longer not shorter.

Bang!

Bang!

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Jason squinted across the rocky terrain at the targets. Hundreds of holes riddled the various wooden circles. Not bad, all the bullets had landed in the center area of the target, but it wasn’t perfect. It had to be precise, otherwise it wouldn’t get the desired result. Still, it was a big improvement from when he’d first started.

Glancing at the table at his side, he saw he was out of bullets. He could also use some new targets. With all the holes clustered in the center, it was getting difficult to tell where he was hitting.

Sliding the safety on, he placed the pistol back into its holster on his hip.

He’d been out here practicing for hours. He had down all the basics, now it was mostly a matter of practice. Lots and lots of practice. In the last few weeks he’d already improved considerably. It was impressive really.

Jason hadn’t been clueless about guns before he came to this coastal town in Mexico. He’d lived in Crime Alley for most of his childhood, he’d had experiences with guns long before he met Bruce, most of them unpleasant.

He could still remember the first time he’d ever held a gun. He’d been around seven years old. Clara, a girl who had lived a few apartments down from him and his mom, had let him hold her gun that she’d used to fend off her would-be rapist. She’d taken out all the bullets, but little Jason had just wanted to examine the weapon that had saved his friend. Mostly he’d just wanted to understand how it worked, but she’d only let him keep it for a few minutes.

Even though Bruce had an irrational, though understandable, hatred for guns (Jason sometimes wondered how Bruce would function if his parents had been stabbed to death. A far messier, more brutal way to go, and a more common end for those not involved in a gang) he’d still taught his Robin about them and how to safely handle them. That knowledge had only been for the use of defense and disarming though, never offense.

So Jason had sought out a teacher who would teach him what Batman wouldn’t.

He packed up his things quickly, slinging his pack over his shoulder and pulling his shirt down to hide the gun, not that hiding it really mattered here. He was dressed in a simple black t-shirt and jeans. Weather was too warm for long sleeves.

He set off at a brisk pace, veering away from the rocky terrain and into the town. The sun was already setting and he was supposed to be back before dark.

The town was quiet as he made his way through the cobblestone streets. Most people were too scared to risk being outside after dark. Most people were scared to be outside during the day too, but the nights were worse.

He passed a brick wall covered in graffiti, a big eye with a X through it was at the center. Green flashed in Jason’s vision as anger and disgust crawled through his skin at the sight of the symbol, but he didn’t stop.

Not for the first time, he reflected on how nice this town would be if Los Ojos Vacios weren’t here. The landscape was scenic, and the coastal weather was pleasant. It was a middle tier town, not super fancy, but not shabby either. At least, it hadn’t been before. Now the streets were covered in garbage and other filthy things. Graffiti was sprawled over the walls and that was the least of the vandalization. The tiled roofs were falling into disrepair along with the rest of the town. Every time Jason passed what had once been a nice fountain, there seemed to be more trash and gunk in the water. The citizens of the town didn’t even try to fix things anymore.

It didn’t take Jason long to reach his destination. The house was one of the nicer ones in the area. He went to the side door and punched the code into the keypad beside the door. Once he heard the confirming beep, he took out the key out of his pocket and unlocked the door.

The building inside was dark and empty. He must not be back yet. Good, he wanted to deal with the man as little as possible. But it was almost over now, he just had to wait a little longer.

Making his way over to the table, he flicked on the overhead light. If he hurried, he could finish cleaning his gun before the thug came back. Thankfully, the man didn’t usually stick around long, he spent most of his time out terrorizing the town with his gang buddies. This place was more of a safehouse that he let Jason stay in and sometimes used himself.

Pulling the supplies out of his pack, he lay a stained towel down on the table before quickly and skillfully disassembling his pistol. The strong smell of lubricant wafted through the air as he took the cleaning rod and began wiping out the sediment and residue in the barrel. It only took him a few minutes to finish, put away the supplies and reassemble the pistol. The only sign he’d cleaned his gun at all was the scent of lubricant that still hung in the air.

Jason paused in organizing his pack at the sound of familiar footsteps at the front door. A sharp frown formed on his face, but he took a deep breath and morphed his expression into neutral. He touched the handle of the knife on his belt to assure himself it was still there.

Less than a minute later and his solitude was shattered as the man entered the room.

Ivan Cabellero. Skilled gunman and one of the highest ranking members of Los Ojos Vacios. And Jason’s temporary firearms teacher.

The man was only slightly larger than average, but very muscular. His tan skin was covered in tattoos all along his arms. He had more in other places too, but they weren’t visible except for where some were peeking out from his neck. The man was a decent teacher. Jason hated his guts, he was counting down to when he could finally kill the scumbag, but he’d been useful so far.

Ivan was considered to be an expert at his craft, but he wasn’t Batman or Deadshot level of expert. He was basically a deluxe goon, but he was good enough to be Jason’s beginner firearms teacher. A teacher who had run out of things to teach. But teaching him how to use guns was only one of the things Jason was using him for.

The thug strode in like he owned the place, which he technically did. He had two guns strapped to his belt, no doubt loaded and ready for business. The man looked over to where Jason was sitting and, seeing the gun lying on the table and smelling the lubricant in the air, nodded approvingly.

“Always keep your weapon in top condition,” he said, his English only holding a hint of an accent. “I take it your practice went well?”

“Yes sir,” Jason answered, carefully keeping his anger out of his voice. One day. He just had to wait one more day.

“Good, good,” he said, casually glancing around the room. “You learn very fast, Peter. I’ll check the targets on my way across town.”

Jason nodded wordlessly. By the way Ivan was talking and the fact that he wasn’t doing anything besides stand there, it seemed like he’d only stopped in to check up on Jason. Good, that meant he’d be gone soon.

“Big opportunities are coming for you, Peter,” Ivan continued, “I’m going to talk about you with the boss tomorrow night at the big meeting. He’s very interested in you. Don’t get a lot of young talent like yours. He was especially impressed with how you handled Gomez.”

Jason had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. Like he would ever actually join that gang of animals. When Ivan had ordered him to kill a traitor, Jason hadn’t hesitated. The piece of shit hadn’t been the ‘I’ve realized the error of my ways’ kind of traitor, he’d been the ‘I’m still a complete scumbag, but I think I can make a lot of money doing this’ kind of traitor. Jason had been happy to kill him and Ivan had mistaken that for some kind of loyalty. Ivan had had a personal beef with the guy too, so he’d been extra pleased when ‘his’ prodigy offed him.

But the big meeting tomorrow night was the important thing. Their plans for expansion were going to go significantly in the other direction. His patience would finally pay off. All the head honchos in one place.

Idiot Ivan had no idea he was being played. Originally, Jason hadn’t intended to make the man his firearms teacher, but once he’d found out who Callebero was he’d seen an opportunity. Kill two birds with one stone so to speak. A whole flock of birds really.

Jason had been able to get tons of information out of Ivan. Names, locations, plans, etc. So far Jason had only done subtle sabotage in order to save people, but now it was almost time for him to strike a real blow.

Jason had been careful to dance on the line. Talented and smart enough to keep Ivan’s attention (though never revealing just how skilled of a fighter he was), but still a child, naïve and manipulatable. No, Ivan had no idea what was in store for him. Though it would be a tad less dramatic compared to what Jason had done to his last teacher, an explosives expert who sold bombs to terrorists, gangs, and whoever else would buy them. He’d learned all he could from him, then strapped him onto the bomb he himself had taught Jason how to make. Then of course there were all the mentors he’d killed during his time with the League of Assassins.

Yep, Ivan would be acting very differently if he knew about those.

But now Ivan was already on his way to the door. “I just dropped in to check on you. Lots of preparations to make for tomorrow’s meeting. You have tomorrow off, just stick close to the house. If things go the way I think they will tomorrow, you’ll be getting very busy after that.”

Jason gave a two finger salute. “You got it, sir.”

With a final nod, Ivan left the building, locking the door behind him.

Jason didn’t waste any time.

After double checking that the door was locked and the security was active, he rushed upstairs to his rather sparse bedroom. He tossed his pack onto the bed and strode over to the dresser. Opening the secret compartment he’d installed in the bottom drawer, he reached in and withdrew his Red X suit.

Scooting out the chair at his desk, he opened the top drawer and pulled out his laptop. He placed it on the desk and then set the newly made Red X belt next to it.

It had taken him a while to gather all the parts he required, but the new belt was nearly complete. The building part had been fairly easy with Dick’s schematics and codes, and he already had the Xenothium he needed to power it. Now it was just a matter of testing and fine-tuning everything to his liking. This belt was going to be even better than the original.

Jason opened his computer and hooked up the belt to start running diagnostics. Once that was done he could start testing the functions to make sure everything was working properly.

He obviously couldn’t use the suit in tomorrow’s takedown (he wasn’t planning on leaving any witnesses, but it paid to be cautious). If Dick heard about it, a lot of Jason’s plans would be screwed. He didn’t need the suit for this anyways, but he needed it fixed for what came after.

Things had changed since he’d first stolen the suit. One of his main reasons for stealing it in the first place had been to help him hide from Slade. That, and because the suit was awesome, but hiding from Slade had been a major reason as well. Slade was supposedly dead now though.

Supposedly.

From the information he’d been able to gather, it seemed Slade had been thrown into a pit of lava by some new earth bending apprentice he’d picked up. Everything he’d read on her said her name was Terra, but he wasn’t sure if that was a codename or just a shockingly serendipitous real name.  She’d died killing Slade apparently.

Jason wasn’t sure how he felt about her. On one hand, he did feel a little guilty because he was fairly certain Slade’s apprentice obsession was his fault. He had serious doubts Slade ever meant to keep her though. She’d been powerful, yes, but from what little Jason had been able to get on her, she’d been lacking… something. Passion? Ambition? Drive maybe? A goal? Guts? She just didn’t have the qualities Slade admired. She was a tool, not a successor. Perhaps she had had those things, but from what Jason had seen, she’d just been a desperate girl scared of her own incredible powers. And once she had control of those powers, what else could Slade have offered her? Teaching someone how to magically throw rocks around didn’t mean they were obliged to help with world domination. He might have been able to rile her up against certain groups of people, but revenge against the whole world was a stretch for most people. She hadn’t had any reason to help him except for loyalty to Slade and Slade was a psycho so she wouldn’t have been able to put up with him long. Her betrayal wasn’t the least bit surprising.

But her last minute betrayal didn’t change any of the terrible things she’d done. She’d attempted to kill her friends, betrayed them. The takeover of Jump had been quick without the Titans to protect it and most of the citizens had fled the city before shit really hit the fan, but some people had still died. She hadn’t directly killed them herself, but she’d helped make it happen. He could understand if maybe she hadn’t known that Slade was evil at first or had mistakenly thought she could just use him to help master her powers ( though he was sure the Titans would have offered to teach her). But once she’d realized what Slade was, she could have left, or at least tried. Instead, she just went along with becoming his tool in a crazy world domination scheme.

What the hell had been up with that anyways?

Yeah, Slade had always somewhat held the goal of world domination, mostly through taking over the League, but what he’d done in Jump went completely against Slade’s methods. Plus, it was just a super dumb plan. There was a reason most bad guys didn’t just go around conquering cities. Ra’s _could_ use his ninja army to take over New York or some such city by force, but he didn’t because that was dumb and there were far better ways to go about accomplishing his ultimate goal.

There was no way Slade seriously thought simply conquering Jump with a robot army was going to work, so why did he do it? Sure, he’d timed his attack to when the Justice League was off world, but he’d known they were going to come back. What did he think would happen when they returned? He would’ve been in the middle of an open, conquered, virtually empty city with his only real ally being a girl who could throw rocks. Oh, and he would have also just murdered a bunch of mini leaguer wannabes, which would have gone over so well.

Slade wasn’t stupid. Nor was he that open and straightforward. Slade was sneaky and conniving. Working from the shadows, manipulating the pieces, always staying a few steps ahead of his enemies. A mercenary. An assassin. A strategist. There was no way he’d try to upfront conquer a city like that. He was far more likely to try to take control of the mayor or something subtle and sneaky like that. With what he’d done in Jump, Supers wouldn’t even have been necessary (though they would have taken him out quickly), the US military would have taken him out eventually.

So if his plan hadn’t been to conquer the city, what had it been? What had he been trying to accomplish?

Jason didn’t know and it was driving him nuts.

The theory that made the most sense was that it had all been the most elaborate and needlessly complicated faking of one’s death in human history. That sounded insane, but Slade was insane so Jason couldn’t rule it out. And it was the only explanation he could think of that even remotely made sense.

Jason was left with an impossible dilemma. Having not witnessed Slade’s supposed death himself, he required a body as evidence. However, death by lava didn’t tend to leave one of those behind. There was no way for him to confirm Slade’s death and with such strange and unexplained circumstances surrounding it, Jason couldn’t believe Slade was truly dead. He just couldn’t.

So, until he got definitive proof that probably didn’t exist that Slade really had died, Jason was going to continue to act as though Slade was still alive and still hunting him. Which meant he’d forever be looking over his shoulder, never able to obtain peace of mind.

As for the girl, she was dead and the Titans had the body, so his feelings about her didn’t really matter.

A beeping noise from his laptop informed him that diagnostics were complete and had been successful. Pushing thoughts of Slade from his mind, Jason refocused on the task at hand.

Unhooking the belt from his computer, he began to quickly run through the tests. A small pile of X shaped weapons piled up on the desk as he tested making each kind of weapon.

The next phase of testing he had to wear the entire Red X suit. He systematically ran through every function he could do within the confines of his room, ending by teleporting from one side of the room to the other.

After hours of testing and adjusting, he was finally satisfied. He put the suit and the laptop away then stared down uncertainly at the small pile of various X weapons he’d created. It would be a waste to throw them out, but he didn’t want to leave them out in the open either. There wasn’t room in the secret compartment for all of them.

Jason shrugged and scooped the pile up. He hid the Xs between the clothes in his middle dresser drawer. Good enough for a day.

Glancing at his bedside clock (analog, not digital) he saw it was 2am. Not crazy late, but he needed to get some sleep and still have enough time to prepare for the takedown.

He casually went through his nighttime routine: eating a nighttime snack (he’d eaten before going to the shooting range, so he didn’t need a full-on dinner), brushing his teeth, taking a quick shower, changing into the t-shirt and sweats that served as his pajamas, rechecking the security. His head was hitting his pillow barely fifteen minutes later.

\----------------------------------------

Dark.

It was dark, he couldn’t see anything. He tried to sit up, but his body kept knocking into something hard. It surrounded him on all sides, in every direction. He was trapped.

Panic sparked at the familiarity of the situation, though he couldn’t quite place why he felt like this had happened to him before. What he did know with overwhelming certainty was that he had to get out.

Bits of wood soon turned into dirt as Jason desperately clawed his way upward, the earthy scent filling his nostrils. The smell increased his panic tenfold and his lungs began to scream for air, overruling the pain in his hands.

Just as he felt like his lungs were finally going to give out and mind was becoming hazy, the soil became wet and then he was bursting out from the ground.

Jason took a huge, gasping gulp of air as his head broke through the surface, only vaguely registering the headstones around him as he worked to get some much-needed oxygen into his lungs. Rain poured down from the sky, washing away the smell of dirt.

His relief at escaping the dark earth was short lived though as he quickly realized he could not pull himself out from the hole. The dirt was so wet it had become like the finest sand, the wet soil simply slipping through his fingers.

As he desperately struggled to stay above ground, a pair of black boots suddenly appeared in front of his face. Looking up, blinking through the rain and tears, Jason saw Batman staring down at him, his face showing no emotion.

Hope bloomed in Jason’s aching chest. “Bruce,” he gasped, tears pouring down his face as he continued his fruitless struggle against the wet, ghostly dirt. “Help me!” he begged.

To Jason’s shock and confusion, Batman made no move to help his struggling, no longer dead son from his grave. Instead his eyes narrowed down at him and Jason suddenly became aware of the blood all over his body. Where had it come from? Was it his or someone else’s? Why wasn’t Bruce helping him?

“Bruce-“ Jason pleaded.

The boot came down on his chest hard, causing Jason to lose the tenuous grip he had on the surface. Disbelief and betrayal tore through him as he began to fall into darkness again. He fell for a long time, a black, empty void of nothingness on all sides. Jason dully considered that he was falling straight into hell.

Then without warning, the falling stopped.

Disorientated, Jason propped himself up with one arm. Scorching lava surrounded him on all sides, trapping him on a rocky island. Shit, this wasn’t hell for real, was it?

Quickly, with a hammering heart, Jason stood up. Despite the heat, the blood that still clung to his body felt cold and wet. It should have felt good, but it only felt uncomfortable.

He turned, then stumbled backwards when he found Slade looming over him, threatening and dark.

“Hello, Jason.”

Jason jerked awake with a gasp, sweat soaking his skin and heartbeat wild. His eyes darted around the room and it took him a couple seconds to confirm that it had only been a nightmare. He had so many of those these days you’d think he would have gotten used to them by now.

Then he realized what had woken him up. His body tensed, and his mind started running a mile per second. There was a figure standing in his now open doorway.

The black haired girl’s face was covered by a somewhat creepy depiction of what appeared to be a smiling cat. She wore a green kimono. He could see the glints of multiple blades in each hand peeking out from her too long sleeves. They almost looked like claws.

They were both still for a second, each watching the other. Then they were moving.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so Cheshire was actually in Teen Titans, though I doubt most of you remember her. She showed up to help fight with the Brotherhood of Evil a few times and she was silent the whole time. She was the one who captured Speedy and she was in the big fight at the end. I've attached a picture of her since most of you probably don't remember what she looked like in Teen Titans. I don't own the picture, it's just a screenshot from the show.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason fights the mysterious intruder and they strike a deal.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You might have noticed that this story will now be 5 chapters. That is because I originally had this chapter paired with the next one, but then I realized the end of this one was a good cutoff point.

She was fast.

Jason barely had time to grab the knife he had hidden under his pillow before she was on top of him. He flipped off the bed and brought up the blade to block the metal claws coming at him.

Shit. He was not at all prepared for this. Who the hell even was this chick? Why was she attacking him? She certainly wasn’t from around here and she was definitely professional, though a little on the young side. It was hard to tell with the mask, but she looked like she was only a little older than him.

She was silent as she continued to come at him. Jason was on defense, mostly focusing on dodging her attacks and occasionally throwing one of his own. He was physically stronger than her, but she was agile, well-trained, and had clearly come prepared for a fight. Her attacks were graceful, but fierce, mostly using her claws. It was a deadly dance as each attempted to outmaneuver the other.

“Who are you?” he demanded, dodging another series of quick swipes then attempting to kick out her legs from under her. She backflipped away from him, but as soon as she landed she was after him again. She didn’t answer. Didn’t say anything.

Oh great, she was one of _those_.

Jason let out a growl of frustration. He was hesitant to kill someone he knew nothing about so he’d aim to take her alive. But he didn’t have much in the way of weapons and he wasn’t wearing any armor. He couldn’t get to his gun with the girl in the way, and even if he could, it wasn’t loaded, and this was already a close combat fight. Besides the knife and the gun, he didn’t have any other weapons in this room. Too many weapons and your enemies could use them against you.

As he delivered a bone bruising kick to her right leg and she rolled away, his gaze landed on the dresser, an idea sparking in his mind. Bingo! She’d never see it coming. He just had to reach it without getting clawed to death.

Taking a few steps back towards the bed, he waited until she was on her feet and lunging at him again. At the last second, he grabbed the blanket off his bed and threw it over her, dodging around her as she did. It only slowed her down for a couple seconds, her claws shredding the sheet as she threw it off her, but it was enough.

Yanking open the middle drawer, he quickly rummaged around and closed his hand around the X he needed. With a smirk, he turned and threw it at her rapidly approaching feet. It exploded on impact.

The sticky red goo narrowly missed hitting Jason, but little miss crazy claws was thoroughly stuck. It covered almost her entire body, her head the only part fully visible. Even though he couldn’t see her face through the mask, he could sense her surprise. 

For the first time since she had broken in, she spoke. “What the hell is this stuff?” she asked, her voice a mixture of annoyance and bewilderment. She tugged her head forward a bit only to wince when the goo kept her long hair in place.

Jason ignored the question. Keeping a keen eye on her, he took a couple steps back and pulled his pistol out from the panel in his desk drawer. Quickly loading it, he pointed it at her face threateningly. He didn’t dare get too close because who knew how stuck she really was. With those claws, he wasn’t taking any chances. He was lucky she’d only managed to land a few grazing blows. If she’d really landed a hit, he would be more than just lightly bleeding right now.

“Who are you?” he ordered sharply. “Why are you trying to kill me?”

It was amazing that you could tell she was rolling her eyes under the mask. “Kid, I have no idea who you are. And I wasn’t going to kill you probably. I wouldn’t have attacked you at all if you hadn’t seen me.”

Jason snorted disbelievingly. Yeah right. “Oh, _sure_ you weren’t. Then what are you doing in my house? You didn’t just stumble in here, you would have had to disarm the security.”

Tilting her head to the side as much as the goo would allow, she said, “Ah, yes. It was better than I expected for a thug. Usually only takes ten seconds for these types.” She paused, probably trying to decide what she would and wouldn’t say. Jason cocked his gun.

“Hmm,” she hummed, not seeming at all concerned about the loaded gun pointing straight at her. “Wellll, if you _must_ know, I was hired to kill Ivan Cabellero. This is _his_ safehouse. I wasn’t expecting some kid to be in here.” Her last words were curious.

That was… believable.

A man like Cabellero had a lot of enemies. It wasn’t beyond the bounds of belief that someone had hired a merc to off him. But the timing was weird and this girl seemed like an odd choice. She clearly wasn’t local, the kimono was a pretty blatant clue and her accent definitely wasn’t from around here. If he had to guess, though it might not be, he’d guess English was her first language. And she was a teenage girl, unless she already had a reputation, most people don’t hire teenage girls as assassins. He doubts that Cabellero had done anything to gain the ire of the more elite baddies, they wouldn’t even know he exists. Not to mention Cabellero wasn’t the kind of scum that required an elite assassin to get rid of. It was overkill.

Her story didn’t quite add up, but that aside. 

“Oh, hell no!” he spat angrily. “I did not put up with this scumbag this long only to have some crazy cat girl bust in and steal my kill. _I’m_ going to kill him, so your services aren’t required. Who hired you?”

She snorted. “Seriously? Mercenary-client confidentiality. I’m not telling you.” Then, in a more menacing voice, “Don’t tell me you were hired to take him out too. This is _my_ job. And you’re obviously dragging your feet if you haven’t killed him already.”

Jason wasn’t exactly pleased with her answer, but he wasn’t surprised, and he really didn’t care who had hired her. After tonight, it wouldn’t matter. “No one hired me to do anything,” he clarified, “I just hate the guy.”

“Oh,” she said, her voice brighter now that the threat of competition was gone. “Well we all have one of _those_ in our lives.”

“Y’know,” she continued slyly, “When I first saw you in here, I thought maybe you were his nephew or maybe his sex toy, but you’re way too good for that. You put up a pretty good fight, some of the most fun I’ve had in a while, although this goo is kind of cheating.” She glanced down at the goo with critical disapproval before continuing to speak. “You’ve been well trained. And whatever this goo is isn’t the kind of stuff your average gang member has in their arsenal. You’re above these common thugs. So who are you exactly?”

Jason wasn’t surprised by the inquiry, but she was in no position to be asking questions. “Who are you?” he challenged.

This time she didn’t hesitate with her answer. “You can call me Cheshire.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “Cheshire? As in Alice in Wonderland?” Explained the grinning cat mask. “Why’re you called that? Because you’re insane?”

To his surprise, she actually laughed a little at that. “No. The ability to disappear is why I chose that name.”

Well, it was a lot more creative than a lot of people were these days, he’d give her that. Bonus points for taking from a literary character. Unless she was basing it off the cartoon, in which case slightly less points. She couldn’t literally disappear, right? Seems like she would have used that already if she could.

“Gotta be honest,” Jason said. “I know another guy with an Alice in Wonderland fetish and I kind of hate him with a burning passion.” God, if he ever got a chance to put a bullet through Mad Hatter’s head, he was taking it. No hesitation. Then he was burning the hats.

Cheshire shrugged best she could. “Well,” she prompted, “I answered your questions. It’s only polite to answer back.”

“Like I give a damn about politeness,” he scoffed. However, giving her a name would most likely help in the long run. Knowing a person’s name made people more comfortable, made it feel like they knew something about the person even if they didn’t know anything. And if he didn’t give her a name, she’d probably just call him ‘kid’ the whole time. He thought it over for a second. “I’m nobody,” he told her flatly, “But my name’s Peter, if you care.”

“Peter, huh?” If she didn’t believe him, she gave no sign of it. “Well, Peter, I’ve got work that needs doing. And it’s already going to take me forever to get all this goo out of my hair, thanks for that, so I’d appreciate being let out sooner rather than later.”

Was she serious? “Let you out? Why the hell would I do that?”

“Why wouldn’t you?” she lobbed back. “I’m sure you’ve got things to do, so you can’t hang around watching me all day. Try to tie me up or lock me away and I’ll just escape and be _really_ pissed at you. I don’t think you actually want to shoot me so that’s out. And I’m killing the guy you hate. I’m even willing to let you tag along and watch so long as you don’t slow me down and I get my money. It’s a win-win for both of us.”

His gun didn’t waver as he considered her proposal. She made some valid points. He didn’t want to kill her, and he didn’t currently have the means to properly lock her up. And really, at the end of the day, he supposed he could live with someone else killing Cabellero so long as he ended up dead and no longer able to hurt anyone. Especially if he got to help to some degree. The real problem was that he didn’t trust this girl not to bolt or worse as soon as she was freed. If she killed Cabellero before it was time, she’d seriously screw over his plans for tonight. And if she attacked him again, and he had to kill her in self-defense, that would be on her.

After about a minute of considering his options, he finally said, “I might be willing to agree to that, but there is one catch.”

“Enlighten me.”

“You have to wait until tonight to kill him,” he stipulated. 

He could feel her frown. “Tonight?” she asked, her voice drenched in suspicion. “Why?”

“Los Ojos Vacios is having some kind of big meeting tonight. But other than it’s happening and that all the most important members are attending, I don’t know much. Where it’s going down or who all the most important members are. Even Cabellero is being tight lipped about it. I need to tail him to the meeting and I can’t do that if he’s dead. You can kill him after that.”

She tilted her head slightly. “Los Ojos Vacios? Isn’t that the name of the gang around here? The one that leaves the graffiti everywhere?”

“Yes,” Jason affirmed darkly. If only graffiti was the worst of their crimes.

She seemed a little confused. “Why do you want to know where the meeting is? You wanna ask the boss for a promotion? ‘Cause I don’t think that’s the way to go about it”

“No!” Jason refuted fiercely, recoiling a little in disgust. “I’m not even a member.” Other than killing that one guy and feeding some carefully false information, he’d done nothing for the gang. Cabellero had wanted him to improve his skills before introducing him to his boss for initiation. Jason continued in an icy calm voice, “I’m going to kill all of them.”

“…seriously? Why? How do you even plan to pull that off?”

“I have my reasons,” he answered cryptically. This girl didn’t strike him as the most virtuously upright individual in the world. And telling the not very good person that he was killing the bad guys just because they were bad guys probably wasn’t going to go over too well. “And I can take them. They’ve gotten lazy and are out of practice after going unopposed for so long. And they’ve never had to deal with someone like me before.”

“Hmmph. Well if that’s what you wanna do, go for it, but I’m not helping you take down some gang. I came for Cabellero. I kill my target then I disappear, quick and quiet. I don’t make a scene or go in guns blazing. And I have no reason to kill these people, there’s nothing in it for me.”

So it was a figurative disappearing. Probably. He shrugged. “You could still disappear if there are no witnesses left,” he pointed out. “But I’m not asking you to help. You can just kill Cabellero when he leads us to the meeting. The rest of the gang doesn’t even have to see you.”

She still didn’t seem sold on the idea. “We could just make him tell us where the meeting is when we hunt him down. I can be very persuasive.”

Jason rolled his eyes. “He would never tell, especially if he knows you’re just going to kill him afterwards. If he lies and you’ve killed him, I’m screwed. I’ll probably never get another opportunity like this.” And if this meeting was about expanding, he had to stop them before that happened. “Do you have some kind of time restraint or something? A reason you can’t wait a few hours? Besides, unlike you, I know exactly where he is. It will save you time and you won’t have to search the town for him in broad daylight.” The sun was halfway risen over the horizon by now, if the clock beside his bed was correct. 

Cheshire _tsked_ in annoyance. “I suppose you’ve got a point,” she finally conceded. “Fine, I’ll wait until you’re little meeting. I want to take a shower first anyways.”

 

“So we’ve got a deal?” Jason checked. “You wait until tonight and I’ll lead you right to him. Then we go our separate ways.” She’d better just leave him alone afterwards. If she turned on him while he was fighting the gang, he was in deep shit. 

“Yes, fine, deal,” she said, “Like you said, this will make things easier for me. Just get me out of this stuff.”

Satisfied, Jason uncocked his gun. His sweatpants didn’t have anywhere he could safely put the weapon, so he just aimed it towards the ground. As he approached her, he realized she’d already freed herself quite a bit. Her left leg and arm, both of which had been mostly out of his view, were almost completely freed. As simple, solid tug would detach the last strands.

As if reading his mind, she asked, “What? You didn’t think I was just standing here twiddling my thumbs doing nothing while you talked, did you?”

He crouched beside her and tugged the goo near the bottom of her hair. “No, not really,” he replied nonchalantly. 

Studying the goo encapsulating her, he came to the conclusion that there was no easy way to get her out. He did have a small bottle of dissolvent in his belt in case of emergencies, but it wouldn’t be enough for this mess and he didn’t have the supplies he needed to make more. They could technically wait until it dried a bit so it would be easier to pull off, but that would take a while and she didn’t seem to be in the waiting mood.

“We’re just going to have to pull it off by hand,” he informed her, “I have some stuff we can use if there’s some really tricky spots, but I don’t have enough for all of it. A hot shower should get out any left in your hair.”

“Ugh,” she groaned. “Seriously?”

Out of nowhere Jason’s mind flew back to his fight against Dick and the Titans, remembering how much easier it was for energy blasters like Starfire and Raven to free themselves and their friends from the same goo. Pulling goo off a stranger who was also a girl was not how he’d been expecting this day to go. Hopefully this wouldn’t get awkward.

“Well I wasn’t expecting to use this stuff anytime soon. Maybe if _someone_ hadn’t gone around barging into people’s houses and jumping them in their sleep, this wouldn’t have happened. I’ll try to get off what I can from your back, you work on the front. Just keep those claws away from me.” He didn’t think she’d actually attack him now, not when he had information she wanted, but those things were long and he wasn’t sure if she could detract them with the goo all over her arms.

Letting out another annoyed _tsk_ she said, “Fine, fine, whatever. Just hurry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just to be clear, Jade (Cheshire), is in her teens in this story and has not even met Roy yet. So there is no Lian at the moment.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well now he has to deal with this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Yeah! Leave your thoughts in the comments. I love reading them and getting feedback.

Why couldn’t his plans just once go without some major unexpected complication screwing things up?

Jason continued his inner grumblings as he tended to the wounds he’d received from their fight. He was currently sitting at his kitchen table, first aid kit spread across the wooden surface. None of the wounds were serious. She’d landed three scratches, but they’d only grazed him. None had gone deep. Cheshire was using the shower down the hall.

He’d run a search on the girl as soon as she’d entered the shower, but he hadn’t been able to find much with his current resources. It was times like this he missed the Batcomputer. Most of what he’d found had been mere rumors and a few fuzzy or distant photos. As she’d said earlier, she was quick, quiet, and didn’t make a scene. At the very least, she didn’t appear to be a psychopath. Just a merc sometimes thief looking to make some quick cash.

Given the time, Jason was sure he could dig up more on her, but he didn’t have time. She’d already spent twenty minutes in the shower getting all the goo out of her hair. She’d be out any minute now and then he’d have to keep a close eye on her until sunset, which was still almost a third of the day away. Fantastic.

Putting down the needle he’d been using to stitch up the scratches on his left arm, he experimentally flexed his arm. The stitches held.

As he was packing up the first aid kit he heard the water stop down the hall. Mentally bracing himself, he reluctantly turned in his seat and waited as a door opened and light footsteps quickly approached. When she rounded the corner, surprise flared through him.

She wasn’t wearing her mask.

She had put her kimono back on, though the claws were conspicuously absent, but her mask was nowhere to be seen. Her entire face including her green eyes were completely exposed. She looked like she was at least part Vietnamese. She also hadn’t put her hair back into pigtails, leaving her still damp, very long black hair cascading down her back. 

His first thought upon seeing her was ‘damn, she’s cute’ and he immediately wanted to slap himself for it. She was a threat and potential enemy. He just hadn’t been expecting it. He hadn’t been expecting to see her face at all and that she wasn’t hiding it made Jason instantly suspicious. 

Why was she letting him see her face? Was it because she thought Jason, Peter, was a nobody who she would never see again after this so it didn’t matter (which he didn’t believe for a second. She didn’t strike him as an idiot, she wouldn’t expose herself to a mysterious unknown who possessed impressive fighting abilities and rare weapons) or was it because she was planning on killing him afterwards, so she didn’t care if he saw her face now? The latter was far more likely, and it put Jason’s naturally distrustful mind on edge.

If she’d noticed his initial surprise, she didn’t comment on it. Instead she pointedly tossed her hair. “That was a complete pain,” she complained, leveling him with a displeased glare.

Jason snorted. “Could’ve been worse,” he told her. “It could’ve smelled too.” It also could have been one of the more pain inducing Xs that had been laying beside it. She’d gotten off easy.

“Well I suppose there’s that,” she said, not sounding particularly grateful. She crossed the room and took the seat across from him. Putting one elbow on the table, she rested her face on her hand. Her eyes flickered over to the now packed first aid kit before moving to settle on him. Jason briefly considered offering her the kit, but couldn’t recall any injuries he’d inflicted that would require it. He’d never actually stabbed her with the knife, he’d been too busy using it to block her claws, so mostly she’d only received some bruises.

There was an awkward silence as the two stared each other down. Well, actually, she looked amused as she watched him, but Jason was at a lose of what to say. Neither one of them were going to talk about their personal lives and Jason didn’t want to tell her his plan too early and risk her trying to pull something. What else was there to talk about? The weather? The literary works of Lewis Carroll (if she’d even ever read them)? Jason suddenly realized it had been a very, _very_ long time since he’d had to carry a normal conversation. It was a little disconcerting.

So it was a relief when she talked first. “So, Los Ojos Vacios, hmm? The Empty Eyes? A bit of an unusual name. Not the most intimidating I’ve ever heard, though it’s not the worst either. Why are they called that?”

Anger began to simmer in Jason’s blood at the thought of the monsters. It made sense though that she’d want to know about the gang that prowled the area, especially since they were planning on engaging them later that night. Her less so than him, but she’d still want some idea of who and what these people were. But there was a more important question that had to be answered first. “You speak Spanish?” he asked her. He expected the answer to be yes, but it was good to know just how much she’d be able to understand.

She shrugged a shoulder. “Decent enough. Don’t worry, I won’t need you to translate. And I won’t need to worry about, mix-ups.” A shrewd smile appeared on her face. The message was clear. You won’t be able to lie to me about what is being said. 

Jason leaned back slightly in his chair. “There’s a few reasons why they chose that name,” he explained, seeing no reason not to tell her. “One is they’re trying to imply how _evil_ and _scary_ they are. Eyes are the windows to the soul and all that. It’s a poetic way of saying they’re soulless.” But they did have souls. Souls that would be going straight to hell once he ridded the world of their disgusting existence. 

Cheshire cocked her head a little. “Ok, I guess that makes sense. What are the other reasons?”

Jason’s hands clenched tightly beneath the table. “It’s their thing. Their signature,” he said darkly, anger creeping into his voice. “They take people’s eyes.”

She perked up. “Really?” she asked, sounding _way_ too curious. Intrigued even.

Green tinged the edges of his vision. “If they don’t outright kill you, they take your eyes or the eyes of your loved ones. Sometimes they take both, sometimes you’ll get lucky and they’ll only take one. There’s a girl down the block from here who had one of her eyes taken because her dad was ‘rude’ to some of the members.” Jason’s blood boiled as the image of the little nine-year-old girl with an eyepatch flashed through his mind. The green became thicker.

To his confusion, Cheshire’s eyes widened a little in surprise and she looked him more in the eye than she previously had been, then her gaze sharpened with interest, then quickly went back to neutral. The shifts all happened so fast each only lasted about a second. Jason was a bit puzzled by her response, he didn’t think anything he’d said would elicit such a reaction from her, but he was mid-rant so he ignored it. Maybe she just found it interesting.

Jason continued, his rage building steadily. “They even keep the eyes. Like fucking _trophies_. In little glass jars.” Cabellero had proudly shown him his collection. Shelves of various eyeballs floating in little glass jars, most human, some animal. Jason had struggled to hide his revulsion. He’d almost killed him then and there, but with much effort he’d managed to keep a handle on himself and pretend to be impressed.

“And they don’t just take human eyes,” he told her. “They’ll capture animals and take their eyes too.”

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Animals? Why?”

Because they’re a bunch of sick, psychotic, sadistic bastards. “To scare people,” Jason growled. “You have any idea what it’s like to be walking down the street and spot a cute cat huddled against the wall only to have it turn around and have gaping holes where it’s eyes should be? It’s a threat, an intimidation tactic. A ‘this is what will happen to you if you cross us’.” Generally, they used cats and dogs, but sometimes they used other animals as well.

Jason had come across one of those mutilated animals, a calico cat. He’d called her Cally, not the most creative name, but it had sufficed. She’d been terrified of him at first and he couldn’t blame her, but eventually he’d caught her and put her in the shed behind the safehouse. He hadn’t dared put her in the actual safehouse and risk Cabellero finding her.

She’d been starving so he’d fed her, cleaned her up, gave her a soft blanket to sleep on. She’d warmed up to him over time, even let him pet her.

Everything had gone as well as it could for a little over a week. But then one day he’d returned from training and she’d just been gone. He’d searched for her, but she’d vanished. He wasn’t sure if she’d found a way to escape on her own somehow or if Cabellero had found her and tossed her out. Maybe she’d knocked something over or had been meowing and he’d heard. Even if Cabellero had found her though, he wouldn’t have killed her. He would have seen that she didn’t have her eyes and just returned her to the streets. There were only so many animals in town and they tended to die fairly soon after losing their eyes. The Empty Eyes had even started snatching pets. Cabellero had never mentioned finding a cat in the shed though, and Jason hadn’t given himself away by asking. It was possible Cally was still alive, but Jason wasn’t holding out much hope of ever seeing her again.

He’d seen a few other eyeless animals over his time here, but they’d either ran away from him or they’d been too big for him to hide. Cally had been a rather small and quiet cat. Or they’d already been dead. Died in various ways. He’d buried several eyeless animal corpses that had just been lying around. He could give the poor things that at least.

Cheshire seemed to mull over this new information. “I suppose it’s an effective strategy,” she said, her tone neither disproving or approving. “Pretty cheap to use animals like that though. Not like that’s hard to do.” She rolled her fingers thoughtfully. “How are they getting away with all this though? It’s one thing to kill a person then dump the body, but a bunch of people walking around with missing eyes? Most people are pretty clueless, but I think they’d notice that and people don’t need to be able to see to be witnesses.” 

Jason laughed bitterly. “Please, half the law enforcement around here _are_ Los Ojos Vacios members and the other half are either too scared to do anything or are being paid off. Same with the politicians. This isn’t a big city or a popular tourist destination. There’s no local superhero and this kind of thing isn’t big enough to draw any of them away from the messes they’re already dealing with. No one’s going to stop them, and they know it.”

“Hmm, well that’s one way to avoid a cape I guess.” She lifted her face off her hand and leaned back into her seat. “If you didn’t want to join them, why’d you come here in the first place?”

Jason hadn’t been expecting any condemnation from her for the gang’s monstrous actions (he’d only really told her about the eye thing, not all the other ways they hurt and killed people, or the kinds of businesses they ran, but the eye thing was bad enough on its own), but he was admittedly a little surprised at her lack of approval. Then again, assassins did typically look down on gangs, and she didn’t seem shocked or disgusted so not a good person by any stretch. She seemed pretty lukewarm to all of it.

“It’s a long story,” he told her, the green fading to almost nothing as they changed topics. “One thing led to another and I got Cabellero as my firearms teacher. Then he pissed me off.” He was being purposefully vague. 

An annoyed look passed over her face. Then she shrugged, crossing her arms in front of her. “You could have gotten a better teacher than him.” Jason’s eyes narrowed at her strangely knowing tone. He wasn’t sure what she was trying to imply. Was it a subtle brag that she’d had better teachers, or something else? Whatever it was, he didn’t bite the bait. 

“He was only ever meant to be a temporary thing,” he informed her testily, turning his head a little to glance at the clock on the wall. Crap. They still had hours to kill before it would be time to start preparations and he was already fed up with talking. They couldn’t talk the whole time, no way in hell. He was terrible at small talk and it would only be a game of who could get the most information out of the other. He’d already told her more than he’d really wanted to.

Cheshire was apparently thinking along the same lines because she also glanced at the clock. “Ugh, we’ve still got forever to wait. Do you have any videogames or something?”

It took Jason a second to double check that he’d heard that correctly. When he confirmed that he had, he cocked an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“Well what do you want us to do? Make small talk for hours when neither of us wants to talk about ourselves? Have a staring contest? I can’t just sit here for hours doing nothing. Oooh, a game of hide and seek is always fun, wanna do that?”

Now there was a truly horrible idea. “No, I don’t have any videogames,” he told her, trying to think of some other form of entertainment he had that wouldn’t end with one of them impaling the other. “I saw some boardgames in one of the closets,” he offered. He was pretty sure this place had actually been someone’s house house at some point. There were little things scattered around that he seriously doubted Cabellero had put there. Boggle had been one of the games if he remembered correctly, which he almost certainly did. Boggle was fun. No sharp pieces. 

“Boardgames? Ugh, fine. I guess it’s better than nothing.”

“Boardgames are fun,” Jason defended. Most of them anyways. 

Cheshire gave him a look that showed exactly what she thought of that. “You’re a weird guy, Peter.” Standing up, she tossed her hair to the side. “These better at least be the teen and up kind of boardgames. You try to get me to play Candyland and I’ll shove the pieces down your throat.”

Her threats turned out to be unnecessary and they ended up playing Boggle. It was Spanish Boggle, but that didn’t matter. They did a few rounds in Spanish, some rounds in English minus the letters ‘k’ and ‘w’ and even a few rounds of both languages at the same time, that had been an interesting challenge. They’d also found a deck of cards so they played several different types of card games using those.

At some point during their third round of Go Fish it hit him just how weird the situation was. That he was playing card games with the girl, whose name he still really didn’t know, in a Japanese cat costume who had just a few hours earlier broken into his room completely out of the blue and tried to kill him. Nothing he could really do about it though so he brushed it off.

She wasn’t as insufferable as he’d been expecting. Competitive with an attitude sure, but overall fun to play against. If he hadn’t had to worry about her lunging at him any second, it might have been truly enjoyable, especially given how long it had been since he’d done something like this.

This was probably her attempt to lull him into a false sense of security, but she’d be sorely disappointed. Jason wasn’t one to be lulled. If anything, he was becoming more wired the longer she went without attacking. He was ready to move at a moment’s notice.

When they were about an hour out, Jason cooked them breakfast/lunch/dinner. She’d watched him like a hawk the whole time. She’d _claimed_ she had no allergies, but who knew of that was true. He’d figured if she was allergic to something, she’d see him use it since she was hovering over his shoulder like she expected him to poison the food the second she looked away, and simply not eat it. And if she did and she got sick that was on her not him. That hadn’t been a problem though. She’d even complimented him on his cooking if “You aren’t nearly as bad of a cook as I’d thought you’d be” counted as a compliment. She’d eaten all of it though, so actions spoke louder than words.

Then it was finally time.

They both suited up. Cheshire was already mostly in costume to begin with, but she put her hair back into pigtails, reattached her claws, and slid her mask back into place. Jason wasn’t exactly pleased that he could no longer see her facial expressions, but it wasn’t like there was anything he could say, especially not without being a huge hypocrite. Honestly, he’d found he preferred the full facial mask like that of his Red X suit to a simple domino. It hid more.

Compared to her outfit, Jason’s looked almost normal. Certainly stood out far less. He wore black kevlar pants with a matching black kevlar shirt topped with a sweet brown leather jacket he’d picked up a few weeks ago. He’d modified it so it could hold more of his gear, almost like a second utility belt. It also served to add a splash of color to an outfit that had been dangerously close to Batman levels of black while still remaining stealthy. No bright yellows or greens here. Around his waist was an actual utility belt (not his Red X one) to hold even more of his stuff. Black combat boots covered his feet. Lastly, he put on a dark red domino to cover his eyes. He didn’t really have a secret identity anymore, but that didn’t mean he was okay with the bad guys knowing exactly what he looked like.

Once they were all geared up, Cheshire turned to look at him expectantly. “Well?” she prodded. Now that it was finally time to get down to business she seemed eager to get going. Being cooped up in a house all day probably hadn’t helped. There was an energy buzzing in her that hadn’t been there earlier.

“Yeah, yeah, give me a second,” Jason grumbled, taking out his phone and booting up his tracker app. The uneasy feeling that had been plaguing him this entire time grew larger. If she was going to backstab him, she would do it soon. However, he now had his gear on and was heavily armed, so he felt a lot more confidence in his situation. If she betrayed him now, she’d have a real fight on her hands. A much harder fight than catching someone by surprise while they were asleep in their pajamas.

Looking down at the screen, the blinking dot that represented Cabellero was on the move. He appeared to be heading to the uptown area by the beach. Made sense. There was a heavy gang presence in that area and it was where a lot of them hung out when they weren’t terrorizing civilians. Narrowing his eyes, Jason mentally mapped out the best route to reach the area.

Cheshire crept closer to look over his shoulder. “You put a tracker on him? When? You’ve been here all day.” 

“He has this good luck charm he always carries on him,” Jason explained, typing in a few commands to improve the signal. “I hid the tracker in it earlier yesterday.” It was so dumb too. Just a gold colored hunk of metal with stereotypical nonsense good luck symbols like an upright horseshoe or a four-leaf clover. Jason smirked. Ironic that the thing that was supposed to bring him good luck was going to lead to his death. 

Cheshire seemed to agree with his sentiment and snorted. “Superstitious lot.” She then turned her attention to him. “What do you want me to call you out there?”

Jason was momentarily confused by the question. “What?” he asked, glancing back at her.

He could feel her rolling her eyes under her mask. “You put on a mask,” she said, waving a hand at the domino. “So I assume you don’t want me to call you Peter out in the field. Even if that isn’t your real name, ‘Peter’ isn’t exactly a name that strikes fear into the heart of the enemy. So what do you want me to call you?”

Hey, Peter was a pretty cool name. Especially when preceded by the name Jason and followed by the name Todd. Badass really. He wasn’t at all surprised to learn she hadn’t bought the technically fake name though. And what she said was true, he would need a temporary codename. He thought it over for a few seconds then shrugged. Why overcomplicate things. “Red,” he told her.

“Red?” she repeated skeptically, looking him over from top to bottom. “You’re barely wearing any red. All that’s red is your mask.”

Oh, like she was one to talk. “Well what you’re wearing doesn’t exactly scream _Cheshire Cat_ either. Get rid of the mask and you’re just a girl in a green kimono with knives on her hands. Red is fine.”

She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Whatever. I was just pointing it out. Now are we going to get going or what?”

“Yes,” Jason said, pocketing the phone and heading towards the door. He opened it and gestured out. “Ladies first.”

“My my, what a gentleman,” she purred walking over. “But you have the map. I don’t know where I’m going. You should be in front.” She still walked through the door, but she stopped immediately outside waiting for him to pass.

At this point, Jason honestly couldn’t tell if she was saying and doing things with malicious intent or if she was just messing with him. She seemed to be having a lot more fun with all this than Jason was having. 

“Just stay close,” he ordered. “And try to keep up.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sadly, gangs do often do things like that to animals. Especially in South American gangs. I once read a story where a group of animal rescuers found about 20 dogs with their left hind paws cut off all in the same area just over the Mexican/US border. The gang considered them a kind of good luck charm. I don’t know why, but that was apparently their reason. Kind of like a rabbit's foot except with dogs. The pictures were all so sad. All those puppies without their left hind paw.
> 
> On a happier note, things are really going to start going down in these next two chapters. Especially the last chapter, so look forward to those.
> 
> I know this story may seem a bit random so far, but I promise there is a reason it is here and it is also setting up a lot for future stories.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plan in action. (I'm terrible at chapter summaries)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry it took me so long to get this chapter done! It was a mix of life stuff and writer’s block for part of this chapter. I’m glad to finally be getting this out though. I promise the next chapter won’t take as long as this one did.
> 
> For this chapter I’m going to show people speaking Spanish by having (s) before and after the Spanish lines. It just seems easier than actually using google translate or something to translate everything and then still needing to tell people what is being said. So just imagine them speaking in Spanish and the (s) lines are the subtitles.

Jason didn’t like these rooftops. They were too short. Too close to the ground and prying eyes. A grapple wasn’t even really necessary. He was jumping, not flying.

The same couldn’t be said for Gotham’s skyscrapers. A feeling of longing hit Jason like a burning wave. Gotham’s skyscrapers were incredible. With their towering height and gothic gargoyles. Where getting from one to the other felt like flying. Where you could watch the world below you with little fear of being spotted yourself. Their heights so great they could deceive you into thinking Gotham looked better than she truly was, the distance obscuring the filth and rot.

But Jason had spent most of his life on her streets. He wasn’t fooled, he knew the truth.

Jason pushed those memories away. This wasn’t time to reminisce. He was on a mission. He needed to focus on the task at hand.

Glancing back slightly, he watched Cheshire as she followed behind him, her outfit making her look distinctly out of place with her surroundings. She’d been doing just fine keeping up with him, not that maneuvering these rooftops was hard. Her movements were smooth and their rooftop sprint across town hadn’t seemed to tire her out any.

Now that they were nearing their final destination, he knew something would happen soon. Whether she turned on him or not, he still had his mission to complete. Both this one and his ultimate goal. And there was no way in hell he was going to let some crazy assassin girl get in his way.

Returning his gaze ahead, Jason steeled himself for whatever would happen. She’d been quiet so far, probably having fallen into assassin mode once the mission started. They were so much closer to the ground compared to Gotham and without the din of people and traffic to mask them or coms to communicate with, there was serious danger they’d be heard if they tried to speak to each other while running. A small blessing he supposed.

Since they’d left the safehouse she’d given no indication that she planned to backstab him, but he had no way of knowing. He just had to assume she would and plan accordingly. That way if she didn’t, great, made things easier for him. If she did, he’d be ready. Always assume people will betray you.

Jason had foolishly and carelessly broken that rule before and he’d paid for those mistakes in blood. And pain.

They were nearly on top of the signal now. He came to a halt, crouching at the edge of the rooftop to study the building the tracker had just entered. Cheshire silently came up and crouched beside him.

Jason’s lips dipped downward as he glared at the mansion the blinking dot had just entered. This was going to make things slightly more difficult.

It was a small mansion relative to a mansion like Wayne Manor (which in Jason’s opinion classified more as a castle than a mansion), but still a mansion. The whole thing overlooked a seaside cliff and was surrounded by walls on all other sides. Even from back here he could see some of the security cameras lining the walls. There was a large iron gate in front and an unusually high number of cars were parked in the driveway.

Cheshire leaned forward a bit for a better look. “He’s in there I take it?” she said, not sounding too pleased at the fact. 

“Yes,” he said, tapping out of the tracking app so he could open a different program.

Of course they had to be having their meeting in a freaking mansion. It made sense, not like they had to worry about the police busting in and a mansion would be more secure than a random warehouse. It made things harder for Jason though. No human sized vents to crawl through, no rafters to hide in, extra security, an enemy with a dangerous homefield advantage, a frustrating amount of escape points, the windows alone created dozens of ways out of the building. Still, there were some advantages to it. This mansion in particular had many archways and balconies that could be found in many Mexican mansions. Best case scenario they’d all be scheming together in one room and he could kill them all there then go pick off any remaining security. Cheshire wouldn’t be thrilled with this set-up though.

She wasn’t.

“So Cabellero is somewhere in there probably surrounded by all his gang cronies.” It wasn’t a question.

Jason waved her off, not looking up from his phone as he searched for what he wanted. “You could pick him off at a distance,” he suggested, his rapid typing making no sound. “Or catch him when he’s alone. Or you could just let me kill him like I was going to do in the first place.” He certainly wouldn’t complain. “I’m killing all these bastards anyways. You’ve got it easy.” A smirk crept onto his face. “Or maybe you can’t handle a slight challenge. A little bump in the road and you throw in the towel?”

Cheshire scoffed. “Oh, I can handle it fine. This is nothing compared to some of the jobs I’ve completed. I just don’t like wasting time and resources on a rather boring job that would have been laughably easy had I done it earlier.” She side-eyed him through her mask. “And I entirely blame you for that.”

Jason’s smirk became full blown. “And what a dreadfully boring day you would have had if you hadn’t met me,” he drawled.

She tilted her head and he could hear the smile in her voice along with a hint of mischief. “Hmm, I suppose. I do hate being bored.” And suddenly she was leaning in closer and Jason instinctively leaned away, feeling momentarily flustered as she invaded his personal space. Though her claws could pop out in less than a second, the movement didn’t seem aggressive. Was she… flirting? His heartbeat sped up slightly against his will. Or just trying to mess with his head? To his relief, she stopped halfway, letting out s chuckle as she returned to her original position.

“You do seem like the type,” he told her, refocusing on scanning the information that was popping up on his phone. Most of the mansions along the beach had been built by the same company. He’d narrowed it down to two possibilities and began to check their past projects against the address.

His computer, though more advanced than your average laptop, was nowhere near Batcomputer levels so the process felt almost painfully slow. If he had a supercomputer or even a person running tech support (before it had usually been Alfred or sometimes Barbara) this would have been done much faster.

Holding back a frustrated sigh, Jason switched back to looking towards the building to see what information he could gather using only his eyes. “The cliffside probably has the least protection,” he commented. He was pretty confident he could sneak around the cameras on the other sides if need be, but the cliff would be the least protected. The bigger concern was if someone happened to be looking out a window at an inopportune time. There was some shrubbery and it was dark outside, but all in all the yard didn’t have much cover.

“Probably,” she agreed. “This would be easier if we knew the layout of the place.”

“Got it,” he announced as he finally found the match. He analyzed the map carefully, memorizing the layout of each floor. Two main floors. A large basement (probably filled with all sorts of horrible things). And a spacious attic. It was possible some things had been changed since it was first built or that the plans had left bits out that the owner didn’t want people knowing about, but this gave him at least a general idea. The building belonged to a man named Hector Rias. A quick search on him revealed he was rich and apparently dealt in real estate. He also owned the local casino. Other than that though, no real details were given.

Looking at the layout there were a few possibilities to which rooms such a meeting could be held. There was a dining room, what appeared to be an actual meeting room, and a room in the basement. All three were big enough to hold a large group of people.

Cheshire, who was now looking over his shoulder, piped up. “What do you think the chances are that they’re actually in the meeting room?”

“I’d say pretty high,” Jason said thoughtfully. “It’s in a fairly secure position and if you have one why not use it. It was on the second floor and according to the schematics the windows were bulletproof. He couldn’t see said windows from here, but they probably had curtains drawn to protect from prying eyes. They might have gotten complacent as of late, but they’d still take basic precautions.

The next question was completely expected. “And where is Cabellero right now?” she asked, making Jason uneasy. They were at the point where she no longer needed him. But he couldn’t not answer her, or she’d turn on him for sure.

He pulled the tracker up. “He’s walking down the second-floor hallway,” he reported. As the dot reached the end of the hall it turned and started to move in the opposite direction. “Looks like he might be patrolling,” he observed. “Part of the security team.”

Cheshire visibly perked. “That means we should be able to pick him off by himself,” she said, clearly pleased.

“Yep,” Jason agreed. “He might have another guard or two with him, but they should be easy to deal with.” His eyes trailed off towards the front gate. “We should seal the gate, just in case. Slow down any runners and keep them from zipping off in their cars.” The gate could still be climbed with some effort, but it would leave them slower and exposed and they wouldn’t be able to take anything large with them. It would also stem any backup that might try to get in. Hopefully though, it would be an unnecessary precaution and he could kill them all inside.

Reaching into one of his belt pouches he pulled out a handful of remote detonated mini thermite bombs. From another pouch he took out a spray container of sticky substance.

Sensing more than seeing Cheshire’s questioning look he explained, “Thermite bombs. Remote activated.”

She nodded in understanding. “I presume you’re putting them on the hinges then?”

“That’s the idea.” Calling them bombs was a tad misleading, thermite didn’t have the explosions people typically associated with the word ‘bomb’. Jason was intimately familiar with exactly what the explodey kind of bombs felt like and how they worked. Thermite produced intense heat, melting more than exploding. The amount of thermite in these bombs would semi-melt the metal which would then weld and reharden into a solid hunk of metal. With no hinges, the gates would be stuck closed. The remote activation would allow him to wait until his attack actually began before he sealed the gate so as not to tip anyone off that something was up.

After a moment of thought, he held out half of them to Cheshire. “Think you can handle the left side?” If he went down there by himself, it would give her the chance to run off.

She swiped them up. “Easy,” she replied confidently. 

It only took about two minutes to slip down to the ground and toss the devices onto the gate hinges, timing the tosses to when the cameras were looking away. Fortunately, Cheshire had decent aim, though Jason felt a flash of smugness to see his own were slightly more accurate. The sticky substance held the bombs onto the metal. The devices were small and black and that paired with the black gate and the darkness rendered them almost unnoticeable. You’d have to really be looking to see them.

It took less than five minutes for them to make their way around the mansion to the cliffside and then up and through an attic window. Jason had been able to mostly grapple up the cliffside and wall. Cheshire, however, had used her half-retracted claws in a way that very much reminded him of how Selina climbed walls as Catwoman. They even shared a cat aesthetic, albeit very different types of cats.

They used one of the windows that didn’t have a balcony and therefore wouldn’t have as much protection and didn’t have a camera on it. Using a glass cutting gadget, similar to the kind you sometimes see thieves use in the movies, Jason cut a circular hole in the window.

It was quiet inside. They appeared to be in some kind of storage room with dusty tarps covering some of the pieces of furniture. After a quick sweep of the room to determine it was safe to go on, Jason beckoned Cheshire to follow him.

He’d overlaid the plans for the building to the tracker giving him a better idea of where in the mansion Cabellero was. Jason’s eyes narrowed dangerously, an eagerness running down his spine. Bastard had no idea he only had a few more minutes of life left. It was more time than his victims had got. 

They reached the second floor without incident.

The décor of the mansion was garish. Flashy, without much taste. The owner clearly wanted to show off how wealthy he was. It went far beyond just having a nice house and Jason wouldn’t be surprised if the bathrooms had gold toilet seats. Most of Bruce’s crazy expensive billionaire stuff had been to keep up his Brucie façade and at least Bruce (mostly Alfred) had some taste. Plus, Bruce gave a lot of his money to charities and hospitals and the like. The man who lived in this house was a monster. If he’d ever given to charity in his life it would have been to keep up an entirely different facade.

The first guard they came across never even saw them. Idiot had been playing Candy Crush on his phone. A Gotham criminal would never be so oblivious or do something so stupid on the job. Between Batman and their lunatic bosses, they couldn’t afford to let their guard down like that. This guard however died by Jason coming from behind and slitting his throat. The scent of blood sent the green tingling, but it was weak and easy to ignore.

They hid the body in one of the side rooms, a guest bedroom of some scent. Before they moved on, Jason crouched down and removed the radio chip from the thug’s radio. He then inserted it into his cryptographic sequencer, allowing him to listen in on radio broadcasts and track signals. This would be very useful.

Hunting down Cabellero after that was easy. Jason was almost disappointed it was over so quickly. Cheshire had given him a quick, virtually painless death. No drama, he didn’t even get a chance to speak. As Jason stood over the corpse he felt a twinge of frustration that the man had deserved worse, much worse, but at least he could no longer hurt anybody. He still got a rush of satisfaction that the monster no longer walked the earth. 

The green got a bit stronger but was still manageable.

Once again, they shoved the body into one of the side rooms. This time however, they didn’t immediately exit. Standing on opposite sides of the body, they stared at each other. Her mask gave away nothing.

“So,” he challenged quietly, not wanting to raise his voice in enemy territory, “what now? You’ve completed your mission. You gonna leave quietly?”

Her stance was relaxed and she let out a chuckle, claws still out. “Don’t worry, Red. I’m not going to backstab you. I know better than to damage Al Ghul property.”

For a moment it was as if Jason’s brain short circuited. He stiffened, unsure if he believed his ears. “What did you just call me?” he asked lowly, a dangerous edge creeping into his voice. What the hell was she talking about?

She wasn’t the least bit ruffled and even had the _nerve_ to chuckle again. “You heard me, Red. And don’t think you can lie to me. Your eyes gave you away.”

“My eyes?” Jason asked, baffled. Then he straightened threateningly. “Let’s get this straight, I’m not Al Ghul’s _anything_. He has nothing to do with me. I don’t know what it is you saw that makes you think that shit, but it’s fucking not true.” Maybe it wasn’t the smartest to deny the thing that she claimed she was going to leave peacefully for but screw it. He was pissed and he wasn’t going to let that insult slide.

Cheshire crossed her arms, clearly not believing him. She shook her head. “I saw your eyes, kid. When you got upset earlier they turned green. There’s only one thing I know of that causes something like that and no way you got in one without permission.”

“I-what?” he stammered, now truly confused. His eyes… was she saying his eyes actually turned green? Sure, he saw green at times, but he’d thought it was purely in his mind. He hadn’t been aware it caused any physical changes. Dread started to creep through him. Were there other effects the pit caused he didn’t know about? Fuck, he didn’t even understand the effects he already knew about and now there were more.

“You seriously didn’t know?” Cheshire asked, tilting her head curiously.

“Well I’m not exactly looking into mirrors when I’m angry. Usually I’m pounding some bastard’s head into the ground.” And they certainly weren’t in the frame of mind to comment on his eyes changing. His eyes were usually hidden then anyways. But he’d gotten angry and seen green outside fighting plenty of times before and no one around him had seemed to notice. “But I mean, _someone_ would have noticed and freaked out or at least questioned it.”

She shrugged. “It was a slight change. I’m just very observant. There are probably harsher shifts too, but I’m not exactly an expert. So you’re not saying you aren’t a Shadow?”

Jason’s mouth curled into a snarl. “Of course, I’m not!” he spat. Mind racing, his glare turned accusatory. “Are you a Shadow?” It was extremely suspicious that she appeared to know so much about them, but at the same time she really didn’t strike him as one of Ra’s minions.

Cheshire snorted. “Me? Please.” Her voice was full of amused distain. “As if I’d be part of the Al Ghul worshipping cult. All the groveling and the revering and the ‘don’t you dare dishonor my master’, it’s nauseating.”

His lips quirked. “They are pathetic,” he agreed.

Finally retracting her claws, Cheshire shrugged. “Well, even if you aren’t a traditional Shadow you clearly still have something to do with the Al Ghuls. Honestly, if you were just a normal, dime a dozen Shadow I probably would have killed you. But Ra’s doesn’t let just anyone into his Lazarus Pits.” She raised a hand to stop Jason’s refute. “Even if you aren’t one of his little slaves, you are important somehow and it just isn’t worth the hassle for me. Besides, I like you well enough I wasn’t going to kill you regardless.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You like me?”

She tossed her pigtails. “Don’t get any ideas. You just aren’t boring.” Her head tipped down to glance at the body between them. Then to Jason’s surprise, she lifted her mask, revealing her face, her green eyes playful. She gave him a wink. “My job is done here. Good luck with your mission. I think you’ll be fine, these guys are real idiots. Maybe I’ll see you again sometime, Red. We can do something fun.” And with that she pulled down her mask, turned around, and exited the room as silent as a ghost.

For almost a minute, Jason didn’t move, still trying to process what had just happened.

That had gone about as well as it could have. He really couldn’t think of how it could have gone much better. Uncomfortable as it was that she knew so much about him, especially that he had some kind of connection to the Al Ghuls, but he’d probably be fine. She didn’t seem like she was going to run off and snitch to Ra’s. Plus, he knew about his eyes now. He could experiment with it and figure out how to hide the potential tell.

Shaking his head, he got out his cryptographic sequencer. He could worry about all that when he’d completed his mission and was out of enemy territory. Hopefully he could finish this quickly. Cheshire was right, these people were idiots. Never grow complacent. Only the paranoid survive.

The chatter on the radios confirmed that the meeting had started and was, as he’d suspected, in the meeting room. Apparently, they’d been in there for at least a while and everyone was in attendance. No new arrivals to be escorted. No one had noticed any guards missing yet.

Satisfied with the confirmation, he reached into his slightly blood splattered jacket and pulled out the thermite detonator. He activated it, sealing the gate and trapping them inside the premises. 

No reason to waste time. He stealthily beelined for the meeting room, avoiding cameras and silently killing a couple more wandering guards along the way. It was getting to a point where they were going to realize something was up if he didn’t hurry.

There was a rather fancy looking dark, wooden, double door leading to the meeting room. Two armed thugs stood a little ways from the entrance. They were clearly guarding the doors, but currently seemed more focused on chatting than guarding. Their weapons were still holstered. 

Jason pursed his lips, eyes narrowing. It was going to be tricky taking them out quietly enough to not alert the people inside the room. According to the plans the room had been built to be semi-soundproof, to protect those inside from unwelcome ears, but it wouldn’t be enough to hide a gunshot or a serious, prolonged ruckus. And experience had taught him that every person in that room was going to be armed. The element of surprise would be crucial. He also really didn’t want to be chasing people through the mansion if he didn’t have to so he’d have to be quick and efficient. 

As he considered his options, crouched against the wall and carefully peering around the corner, he overheard what the two heavily tattooed thugs were saying. 

“(s)That girl really was something (s),” the thug with a prominent snake tattoo on his right arm said. “(s)Why bring her to the meeting though(s)?”

Jason tensed, ears sharpening. 

The other thug, who had an arm covered in various skull tattoos, gave his companion a withering look. “(s)She’s a gift for the boss. Part of the new merchandise. They just finished sorting them out yesterday. Most of the prettiest ones are staying here, the rest are going across the border. The prettiest one they saved for the boss.(s)”

The rage that tore through Jason almost had him lunging around the corner to show them _exactly_ what he thought about that. He swallowed, desperately fighting back the green flooding his vision because he _knew_ it would lead him to do something stupid. But they _just kept talking_.

Snake tattoo thug shook his head. “(s)The perks of being at the top. I work hard. Why don’t I get my own personal bitch(s)?”

Jason clenched his fists tightly, trying to think past the rising anger. If this girl was in the room too, he needed to take her safety into account.

Skull thug snorted “(s)You don’t work that hard. Besides, don’t think I didn’t notice you grabbing at the merchandise. You’re getting plenty of perks.(s)”

“(s)That’s not the same. And they chewed me out for it. Said I was spoiling them(s).”

‘You’re already about to kill them,’ Jason reassured himself. ‘You just need to decide on how to do it.’

“(s)Oh boo hoo,” skull thug mocked. “Work harder and play it smart and maybe someday you’ll make it to the top too. Then you can have all the bitches you want(s).” He glanced at the doors behind him. “(s)And watch what you say, the bosses are right behind that door. Can you imagine what they’d do to you if they overheard you whining like this? And just after you got the promotion too(s).”

“(s)Yeah, yeah, I was just saying(s).”

Neither one of them was really looking his way. And with the green blazing through his blood he’d be able to throw harder than usual. He’d just have to get to them and finish them off quickly.

Skull thug began to speak again. “(s)Hey, wasn’t Cabellero supposed to be checking in about now(s)?”

Snake thug shrugged, unconcerned. “(s)Eh, you know him. Probably isn’t keeping an eye on the time(s).”

Frowning a little skull thug said, “(s)Yeah, but this meeting’s a big deal. All the bosses are here. Y’wanna be giving your best impression(s).”

“(s)Yeah, well(s)-“ The shurikens hit each of them directly in the back of the head. Hard enough they’d both be seeing stars.

They both stumbled, snake thug falling to one knee. In a heartbeat, Jason jammed one od his knives into the thug’s unprotected throat. Then, before skull thug could reach for his gun, Jason backflipped onto the man’s shoulders and slashed his throat open. Deed done, he jumped gently to the floor, catching the man as he fell and quietly lowering him to the ground. The man’s final bloody gurgles were far too quiet to gain him any attention. It was too late for him to get help anyway.

With great difficulty, Jason took a few deep breaths, trying to halt the slight shaking in his arms. He was on a razor’s edge. But he couldn’t take the time to calm down. He didn’t even really want to calm down. The pit was barking and biting at his heels, spurring him onward. He could feel it burning and singing through his blood, a chaotic mixture of lightning and fire. He just needed to stay aware, to not lose control. It was almost over. He could do this.

Letting out another long exhale that didn’t seem to help anything, he grabbed a handful of smoke bombs. He had to use a lot of them to cover the entire room. It was a fairly simple plan. Bust in, throw smoke bombs, activate thermal vision, close door behind him, use the resulting confusion to get the girl to safety and kill us many of them as possible before the smoke lifted. If he was lucky, a few of them would hit each other in the smoke. Not complicated. He just needed to stay sharp and act quickly.

One more shaky exhale and he began doing just that.

It began perfectly. He burst in, the doors flying outwards. In the heartbeat before he threw the smoke bombs, he located the girl. She was on the far side of the room. He didn’t have the time to take in much about her other than she was indeed pretty, in a very revealing dress, and was sporting several large bruises in various places that made Jason’s blood boil even more than it already was. Then plumes of thick red smoke filled the room and he switched over to thermal, quickly closing the doors behind him to prevent anyone from being able to simply run out of the room. Coughing, shouting, and the sounds of guns cocking could instantly be heard.

Jason immediately rolled away from the doors, unholstering his guns as he did. Bullets sailed over his head. Two of those bullets landed in a man who had been fearfully trying to flee the room. One man down and Jason hadn’t even begun to fire yet. Not a bad start.

Jason began returning fire, hitting two of them right off the bat. Panic swept the room as they realized they had no idea where the threat was. Their shots became wilder, aiming towards the edges of the room. A few more cases of friendly fire, only one fatal. 

Jason was almost three fourths across the room when a commanding voice suddenly rose above the din. “(s)Stop firing, you idiots(s)!” This guy must have some level of power because the order was obeyed. The sudden silence after all the commotion was eerie. It left Jason with no cover noise. If he fired again, they’d know the general area where he was. 

Instead he threw the last of his smoke bombs to thicken the fast dissipating cloud.

He finally reached the opposite end of the room where he found the girl cowering behind an overturned armchair. Now that he got a better look at her, he could see how young she was. Sixteen tops. She looked up at him with terrified brown eyes.

“(s)Get out of her(s),” he hissed quietly. “(s)Stay low and make your way to the door. I’ll draw their fire(s).”

Her eyes widened with surprise and she opened her mouth to speak. But before she could a large hand covered in tattoos and gold rings reached through the thinning smoke and grabbed her by the hair. She let out a shrill cry of terror.

Jason snapped.

It came in flashes. Screams of pain. Of anger. A bullet going through a man’s forehead. A head slammed into the ground followed with a loud crack. Running out of bullets and abandoning the guns. The horror stricken girl slipping out the door. More screams. Blood. Lots of blood.

Then it all stopped.

Jason spun around in circles, panting, an animalistic growl in his throat. Desperately needing to cause more pain but nothing was moving.

Then the double doors opened again.

A woman with long brown hair and black clothing stood in the doorway, surveying the room with an elegantly raised brow, not in the least perturbed by the carnage.

Somewhere in his mind recognition sparked. “Talia,” he growled, jerking to a stop. He didn’t question why she was there. Didn’t even fully process who she was other than her name and that there was a rage inside him that wanted to make her hurt.

With an almost inhuman howl, he lunged at her with incredible speed. He could already see the blood he would make her spill.

But she dodged the feral attack, moving with viper-like reflexes. Her hands came down at his neck. 

Then everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m really excited for the next chapter!
> 
> As for Cheshire, their relationship isn’t romantic, she’s just a flirt. Her part in this story was mostly to set up their friendship for later stories, where it will play a much more important role.
> 
> Any feedback you have is much appreciated!


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Talia wants to talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we are! The final chapter! Hope you all enjoy.

…Ugh, why did he feel so awful?

Hm, actually there was something surrounding him that felt nice. Soft. His body still felt like shit though. Drained and sore. Letting out a quiet groan, he burrowed further into the softness.

…wait.

Jason shot upright, eyes flying open as he rapidly took in his surroundings to piece together what had happened.

A few observations stood out instantly. 1: He was in a rather large and fancy looking bedroom. It reminded him a lot of the guest rooms at the Manor. There were windows to his right and though the curtains were drawn he could still see slithers of sunlight peeking through the edges. 2: He was not tied down or restrained in any way. 3: The door leading out of the room was slightly ajar and therefore not locked. Then he noticed something more important than all three of those things put together.

Talia Al’Ghul was sitting in an armchair in the corner.

Jason stiffened, mind racing.

She was scrolling through something on her phone. Without looking up she said, “Finally awake I see.”

Jason- wasn’t sure how he felt about this. Wasn’t even sure how they’d come to be in this situation. He had some hazy memories of losing control, killing some bad guys, but when the fuck had Talia shown up? 

On one hand, she had clearly taken steps to try and make him feel more at ease. He wasn’t tied down, he was in a bed in a bedroom instead of a cell, wounds which he’d just now noticed and didn’t remember getting had been tended to, and Talia herself was sitting a distance away as casually as Talia could probably get. Even the door being slightly open was a way to signal he was not trapped here. Didn’t mean there weren’t a hundred ninjas between that door and the next one, but still. This all seemed rather friendly and peaceful. On the other hand, she was a freakin Al’Ghul.

He’d never understood why Bruce had such a thing for her. The only other serious one (Brucie had many fake girlfriends. Less, apparently, after he first adopted but none of them were anything more than to keep up the persona) he had arguably understood less was Vicki Vale. Just, why? Especially with Selina and Diana on the table? He could have _Wonderwoman_! Jason liked Selina too, but his favorite Justice Leaguer left him a little starstruck.

During Jason’s Robin days, he’d only met Talia maybe three times that he could recall. But even then she’d mostly ignored him in favor of Bruce. And during his League imprisonment he’d only seen her once. One of his torturers had gone too far and nearly killed him. She’d burst in, surprisingly furious, and stopped them. That was one of the few times he’d gotten full medical attention. He’d never seen that guard again.

Maybe that was the reason he wasn’t more on edge? Because he felt like he should be a bit more concerned with his current scenario. But he wasn’t and he didn’t know why. Even if she’d been playing nice thus far, this was probably going to end with her handing him back to her father.

“Where are we?” he asked, figuring it was best to try and get the most basic information first.

Talia looked up fully, green eyes looking him over. She placed her phone down on the side table. “We are still in Mexico,” she informed him. “Not too far from where you were before. This is one of my safehouses.”

“This is a mansion,” Jason said flatly. Not even Bruce splurged like this.

“No need to stay in a hovel.” Her eyes sharpened into a glare. “What is it you think you are doing?”

“Getting out of bed,” Jason answered, wincing as he placed his left foot on the floor. He didn’t remember getting hit in the left leg, but the bandages and pain said otherwise. He was glad he had sweatpants on. No shirt, but he could live with that at least for a while. He tried not to think too much about who had been responsible for the wardrobe change.

“You’ll be doing no such thing,” Talia ordered sternly. “You’re too injured to be up and about. And there are things we need to discuss.”

His right leg seemed fine, no serious pain just the full body ache. But it was enough to make up for the left leg? “First of all,” he began, “who says I want to talk to you? Second, I don’t have time to chat. Those scumbags I took out have a bunch of kids locked up somewhere. I need to save them.”

Talia’s perfectly manicured nails thrummed on the armrest, her eyes giving away nothing. Then she clicked a button on her silver bracelet and brought it up to her face. Jason braced himself for the room to be flooded with guards. Maybe he should have waited until she left before he got out of bed, but dammit those kids needed rescuing.

So her next words nearly made his jaw drop. “Ubu, those lowlifes from earlier are in possession of a large group of ill-gotten children. Take a team and see to it that they are brought to safety. Be as discreet as possible.”

A deep male voice came back through the speaker. “Yes, mistress. We will leave at once.” Talia lowered her arm and looked at him expectantly.

Jason scrambled to make sense of what had just happened, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. “You expect me to _believe_ that?”

“There is no reason not to. I have no reason to wish harm on those children. And if they are left in danger you will be distracted and obstinate. I wish to speak to you, therefore it is in my own interest to ensure those children are safe.”

Jason wavered, uncertainty swimming through his head. There definitely was some truth to what she was saying. Quite a lot of truth actually. But there was no way for him to confirm if they were really doing what she claimed. All she needed was for Jason to believe they were doing it. Unless whatever she needed from him extended longer than a day.

Frustrated, he glanced down at his bandages and then at the door. Regardless if she was telling the truth or not his chances of getting out of here was almost zero. Getting away from Talia even non-injured would be difficult and then there were still all the lackies she was sure to have around.

Turning his gaze back to Talia, who was waiting patiently and still seated. “What did you want to talk to me about?” he asked suspiciously. Knowing that would help him plan his path forward and he honestly had no clue what she’d want to _discuss_ with him.

A smile appeared on Talia’s face. Not a deceptive smile but what appeared to be a genuine smile. Weird. “Return to the bed first,” she said. “I do not want you collapsing mid-conversation."

Jason rolled his eyes. “It’s not that bad.” Curiosity bubbled up along with a stab of wariness. How long did she think they were going to talk? Still, he returned to the bed, no point in wasting energy. He remained sitting up though, no way was he having any conversation with Talia Al’Ghul without a straight back.

He was admittedly unnerved when she rose from her chair and crossed the room to stand directly in front of him. But he didn’t flinch away when she reached out a hand and gently tipped his face around to study it. He doubted she was going to suddenly stab him now and flinching would make her think he feared her which he didn’t.

“Forgive me my boldness, habibi,” Talia said, caressing his cheek once before lowering her arm. The borderline affectionate action left him temporarily mute. “But I have not seen you in person in a long while. My father forbade me from having contact with you after your dip in the pit. He thought I’d be _compromised_.” She said the word ‘compromised’ with scorn. “Your recent injuries aside you seem to be in good health.” This seemed to please her.

Habibi? What did that mean? Jason had known very little Arabic Before. During his imprisonment, he’d picked up some more, but ‘habibi’ wasn’t a word he had heard them use. If he had to guess from context clues, he’d say it either meant ‘child’ or it was some kind of Arabic insult. Well, whatever. It wasn’t important and like hell was he going to ask her to translate. Then his brain caught up with the rest of her words and what they implied.

His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he tried to think back. He knew he’d spent a significant amount of time in a braindead, zombie-like state, but he had no memories from between digging out of his grave to his violent awakening in the pit. “Were we in contact before the pit?”

“I suspected you wouldn’t remember,” she said thoughtfully. “You were hardly in the state to retain such things. I was the one who cared for you during that time. I tried in vain to find a way to heal your mind, but in the end I had to take more drastic measures.”

Jason jerked, staring up at her in surprise. “ _You_ threw me into the pit?”

It was something Jason had always wondered about, especially during the long stretches when he’d had nothing to do but think as he sat injured in his dark cell. He’d formed many theories. There were two he’d narrowed down to the most likely explanations. Ra’s had either found what he was looking for or had decided the answers couldn’t be found, given up, and revived Jason for a new purpose. The idea that the immorality obsessed Ra’s Al’Ghul had simply given up seemed implausible, but it was one of the few theories that actually made sense. The pit had erased any trace of what had brought him back (at least he assumed it had) so Ra’s wouldn’t be able to experiment on him after that. All his theories and in none of them had he ever considered Talia being involved. It wasn’t like she’d been around.

Talia raised an eyebrow. “Would you rather I had left you a zombie? Subject to my father’s continued experimentations?” 

“No, of course not,” Jason said quickly. “I just- didn’t know it was you who did it.” If she was expecting a thank-you, she wasn’t getting one. His voice gained an edge of anger. “Things didn’t exactly get much better for me y’know. I was just more aware when they tortured me.”

Crossing her arms, Talia had the gall to look annoyed. _Annoyed_! “Maybe if you had curbed your attitude even the slightest amount, you wouldn’t have received so many punishments.”

“What, and let the old coot think he was breaking me?” Jason scoffed. “Yeah, no chance. I gave him the exact amount of respected he deserved.”

“My father is a great man,” Talia snapped, eyes glinting. “You would do well to remember that. Before Jason could snap back, she continued in a softer voice. “However, given your circumstances, I understand your anger so I will let your insolence slide for now. But you are far too rash for your own good.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” Jason muttered. But he recognized now wasn’t the time to argue over her brainwashed view of her nutjob father. “Why did you do it?”

“Put you in the pit?” Talia checked.

Jason nodded.

It was a few seconds before she answered. “I had several reasons,” she admitted, “but circumstances have changed.” That wasn’t an answer. “However, know this. First and foremost, I did it with your best interests at heart.”

Jason snorted. “Sure you did.”

Talia shrugged. “Believe what you will. But I give you my word it is the truth.”

Yes, he was sure her motives were totally benevolent and angels had flown down from heaven to surround her, singing songs of praise for her noble deed. Not. “Muh huh,” Jason said rolling his eyes. Then he became more serious. “I doubt you just wanted to brag to me about your incredible virtuousness. What did you really want to talk to me about?”

“You are correct,” Talia said, giving a small nod. “I actually have several things we must discuss. Firstly, your plan.”

“My plan?” Jason asked, slightly amused. That could be many things. “I’ve made a lot of plans throughout my life. Despite what some people seem to think. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“You wish for Bruce to kill the Joker,” Talia said simply and Jason’s mind blanked.

He gaped up at her. Just hearing his murderer’s name spoken aloud sent chills down his spine. Sent flashbacks through his head.

How… how could she possibly know that? He’d never breathed so much as a word about it to anyone.

Talia looked unimpressed. “Oh, come now, it’s not a hard conclusion to draw. Especially for someone who knows you. Truly.” Her fingers tapped upon her arm in clear vexation. “I completely agree of course. That my beloved has allowed that degenerate clown to live so long is unacceptable. But after killing you, his own son, his refusal to put that mad dog down is downright disgraceful.”

Jason opened his mouth, but no words came out. Sounds just wouldn’t come out. His eyes, however, teared up no matter how he fought against it. He hadn’t realized until just now how much he’d needed to hear someone agree with him. That Jason wasn’t wrong or crazy to want this. To hear out loud that Bruce had fucked up and that Jason deserved justice. 

Talia tilted her head slightly to the side, studying him intently. “I see my assumptions were correct. You are right to wish for this. A father should not allow his son’s murderer to continue to walk the earth.”

Jason swallowed heavily, hands fisting tightly into the bedsheets. “Course not,” he whispered quietly, so quietly he wasn’t sure she had even heard.

Evidently, she had though. Uncrossing her arms, she crouched down so they were eye to tear filled eye. She gently laid her hand on his shoulder. It was surprisingly grounding. “This is a worthy goal. One I will help you achieve.”

Suspicion helped to dry his tears. “…You’d help me? Why?” he asked.

A look of utter revulsion passed over Talia’s face. “That clown has always disgusted me. The creature deserves death. You, especially, have a right to that. And your desire for your father to do the act is entirely natural and just. As for myself, I too wish for him to be the one to end the clown’s life.”

Jason left out a halfhearted snort. “What? You think he’ll accept you then? If he crosses that line, he’ll become some mass killer and won’t be up in his ivory tower anymore?” He’d never taken Talia for the type to have romantic fantasies. He shook his head. “I don’t get why you people think him ending a few of the worst scumbags will turn him into a crazed killer.”

Talia rolled her eyes. “Of course it won’t. I can not fathom how the ridiculous notion lodged itself so firmly into his head. I merely desire him to see the flaw in his ideology, same as you. And I know that him killing will not necessarily lead him to me, but the world will certainly benefit for it.”

Jason gave a jerky nod. “Damn straight. All those fucking maniacs deserve to be in the ground.”

Talia narrowed her eyes at him in disapproval. “You will refrain from using such vulgar language in my presence.” 

And Jason laughed. Really laughed.

God, how long had it been since someone had scolded him for his language? Talia obviously couldn’t compete with Alfred’s all-consuming level of intimidation, but still, just to hear it.

Talia didn’t look amused. “It’s no laughing matter. I am quite serious.” She removed her hand from his shoulder and straightened. “But we must move on to other manners. Mainly how I will assist you.”

“I don’t want you to do all the work for me,” Jason said instantly. He had to be the one to do it. He _had_ to. Bruce had to do it for him.

“Of course not,” Talia agreed. “I was going to offer you a different kind of assistance. Training, support, finances. It is irrefutable that you are skilled and resourceful.” Jason blinked at the compliment. “But I have access to the best trainers in the world and endless resources. You could never even dream of attaining the things I could give you on your own.”

…She was serious. She was actually serious. About all of it. Or most of it at least. Even if she was telling 95% truth that last 5% could really screw him over. The most bizarre thing of all though was he was inclined to trust her. Maybe because her claim that she had cared for him during his braindead stage was true and that had left some kind of lingering trust within him. And it felt weird as hell. He never instinctively trusted _anyone_. Especially an adult. Especially an adult who was a leader in an evil ninja organization. It went against his very nature, but the feeling was still there.

His hands twisted further into the sheets and he began lightly worrying his bottom lip. All this was hitting him so fast and was so unexpected and strange. He needed time to think.

Seeing his hesitation, Talia added. “I am also one of the world’s very few experts on the Lazarus Pits. Only my father is better. I can help you deal with the pit’s side effects. Teach you to gain better control. Your tantrum last night might have ended without serious repercussions but lose control like that with anyone with skill and you will not come out so easy. Even fighting those lowlife thugs cost you injuries. And who could say what would have happened had I not intervened.” 

“’Anyone with skill’, huh?” Jason parroted. “I had one of those ‘tantrums’ when I was escaping from your Shadows and they didn’t seem fare too well.”

Jesting aside though, she made a good case. She _was_ the most knowledgeable about the pits after her father (and he wouldn’t ask Ra’s for help even if the pit had him clawing his own eyes out) and Jason _did_ have a problem. Even though his episodes had yet to cause any catastrophic harm, he didn’t like blanking out with no control and either no memories or hazy memories afterward and it _was_ dangerous and it _was_ getting him more hurt. Worse, he could possibly hurt someone who didn’t deserve it. It was bad.

“ _They_ had orders not to kill you,” Talia replied flippantly. Oh. Well, they still hadn’t recaptured him. Or seriously injured him. His point still stood. Sort of. “I assume you were in a better frame of mind by the time you faced Deathstroke. You wouldn’t have stood a chance otherwise. I’m surprised you fared so well even in your right mind. It was quite the hit to his reputation.”

A small, proud grin appeared on his face at the reminder of his accomplishment but was quickly replaced with a frown. “He was trying to steal me y’know,” he told her. “He had this delusional fantasy that I’d be his slave or apprentice or something like that.”

Talia’s eyes narrowed, anger lighting her emerald eyes. “Did he now?” she asked dangerously. “That traitorous fool. He was always jealous of-“ she cut herself off, letting out a sigh. “Well, it no longer matters. He has already been dealt with. There is nothing more to be done.”

Jason perked at that. “So he really is dead then? You’re sure?” He couldn’t hide the touch of hope in his voice.

Talia nodded. “As far as we can tell, yes. All accounts and evidence say he was killed by his apprentice. Thrown into lava she created. We have no body, but there would be no body to leave. And there has not been a trace of him since. It is _possible_ our information is incorrect but believing him to be alive at this point would be more of a conspiracy theory than anything.”

“Oh,” Jason said, disappointed but still feeling a little better. If even the League thought he was dead, he was most likely dead. Still, he’d play it safe and keep his guard up. 

His thoughts returned to the matter at hand. He fiddled his fingers under the blankets. Finally, he sighed. “Look, Talia, you’ve been- _good_ to me and I’m grateful, but I need time to think this over. It’s just… a lot. You don’t need an answer right this second, right?”

To his relief, Talia shook her head. “You don’t need to decide right now. Your injuries will take time to heal. Just keep in mind that there is much only I can offer you. I would highly recommend you accept.” Well obviously she’d say that.

“Thank you, Talia,” Jason said, grateful she wasn’t pressuring him into a decision. “And I’m not saying no, I just need time to think everything through. Not be rash and all that.”

“Of course,” Talia said smoothly. “However, before I leave you to yourself, there is one more matter I’m afraid needs to be addressed.”

Afraid? Jason cocked his head to the side in confusion. “Er, sure. What is it?”

He watched with curiosity as Talia went back to the side table by the armchair. His interest sharpened further when she pulled a large folder out of the drawer. Was there a mission she wanted him to do? As payment perhaps?

As she returned to his bedside, her expression softened. “I regret that I am the one who has to tell you this,” she began, using the gentle voice a parent would use with their child to tell them their dog had died. “Truly I am. But you have the right to know.”

Jason took the folder handed to him, more confused than nervous. “Have the right to know what?”

“About the new Robin.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed what she was saying. What was she talking about? Had Dick gone back to Gotham? But she knew what Dick looked like, she wouldn’t make that mistake.

Without really thinking he opened the folder to see it was stuffed full of various newspaper clippings. A few fell out, two falling into his lap, the other fluttering to the floor.

The one that had fallen onto his left leg read in big, bold letters “ **Gotham Saved from Scarecrow’s Reign of Terror by Dynamic Duo** ”. Underneath was a picture of Batman standing with a bunch of cops and a Robin that was definitely _not_ Dick. The date of the article was from last week.

Jason stared uncomprehendingly at the stranger wearing his uniform. In his place. He slowly started shaking his head. “No,” he whispered, voice cracking. “No, he wouldn’t.”

But the boy in the picture wasn’t Dick. He was too short, too young. His hair was different. His outfit was different. It closely resembled Jason’s Robin outfit, keeping the red, black, and yellow color scheme, but with various design differences. It was Jason’s colors without being Jason’s uniform.

A numbness set in as Jason stared at the photo, the date. He didn’t even register that Talia had left the room. 

With a shaking hand, he lifted up the other article that had fallen into his lap. The photo was of a smiling Bruce Wayne, his hand resting proudly on the shoulder of a young, blue eyed, black haired boy. The caption read “ **Bruce Wayne Surprises Everyone with Latest Adoption** ”. No, no, no, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. This couldn’t be real. 

He skimmed the article beneath it as if it would somehow refute that awful picture. It didn’t.

Something about the kid being newly orphaned, but only one parent being dead. Conspiracy theories about Bruce and Janet Drake. Tim Drake was the little _thief’s_ name. And he was a fuckin Gotham blueblood. Bruce had replaced him with a posh, rich Gotham elite. An upgrade from the street trash, that was for sure. The journalist who wrote the article didn’t even mention Jason. It was like he’d never existed.

Panic started bubbling up, wild and fast. His heartbeat sped up and he could feel the thumping in his chest. His breaths becoming short and quick. How could-? It was only-? Hadn’t he-?

Jason began yanking out other articles, desperate to find something that would prove the other article were lies. But they all told the same story. Pictures of Tim Drake with Bruce at gala. Batman and fake Robin flying over Gotham’s streets. Fake Robin posing like an attention whore for the camera as he arrested a criminal. Fuck, there were even pictures of the replacement and Dick laughing together at some event. Jason’s throat closed up and he stopped breathing altogether. Even Dick was in on this?

And it wasn’t like all this had just happened either. No, no, no, the earliest article showing the fake Robin was from _two months_ ago. Fuck, he takes his eyes off of Gotham for a couple months and everything goes to shit. The article said they’d fought and captured Poison Ivy. Bruce would never let an untrained kid go after a major villain like her. He would have needed six months of training at least, and that spoiled, rich kid would have never thrown a punch in his life before this. He didn’t have Jason’s experiences from the Gotham’s streets or Dick’s acrobatic talent and background. This kid was nothing. His training would have taken _more_ than six months to get him patrol ready. Which meant Bruce had started training this kid about six months after Jason had died. _Six months_. Bruce hadn’t even waited a year to find a replacement. The blood hadn’t even been dry. He must have started searching for a new Robin the second his coffin entered the grave. 

He'd thought Bruce had loved him.

The panic that had been steadily rising within him suddenly boiled into rage. He crushed the damming article in his hand so hard his fist went white.

Bruce had said that he loved him. That he was his son. He’d _promised_. Jason had trusted him! But now, not only had he let his murderer live to murder more people, he’d replaced him too?! It was- He’d been furious when he’d learned the Joker was still alive but this- this was-

Green torched his vision. He threw the folder at the wall so hard it left a dent. Photos and articles spilled everywhere. Enraged, Jason began to tear apart every article he could get his hands on.

When he ran out of articles on the bed, he scrambled to the floor. The need to release his rage overwhelmed his senses. Clawed at his insides.

Everything blurred as he smashed and screamed and tore. He had no idea how much time had passed, but eventually he ended up back at the folder.

The room behind him looked like a hurricane had torn through it. Not a single thing in the thing had escaped unscathed. And there was blood strewn everywhere. His hands were bleeding and some of his stitches had torn. 

His eyes caught on one of the still intact photos. It was a picture of Bruce, Dick, and the replacement, all is tuxes, smiling for a family photo. They all looked so happy…

Without him.

And just like that, the anger drained away leaving only crushing grief. And he started crying. Hard. The desolate sobbing of a person drained of hope. It racked his body and he struggled to breath over the crying. Tears streamed down his face, dripping down onto the photos that surrounded him.

He hadn’t mattered to them at all.

His legs gave out and he collapsed to the ground, clutching at the damming photo and sobbing.

A son abandoned.

\----------------------------------------------------------

It was a long time before Talia finally returned. Sunlight no longer trickled through the curtains. Jason had also smashed both of the lamps in the room, leaving the space dark and dim.

She didn’t react much to finding the room destroyed. Much like Jason didn’t react to her entering. A quick glance around to access the situation then all her focus was on Jason.

He’d stopped crying by the point, partially because he’d run out of liquid to fuel his tears, but his red eyes and blatant tear tracks were impossible to miss. Instead of crying, he now was just staring blankly at the wall ahead.

Before Talia could speak, Jason spoke first. “I’m going to kill him,” he informed her in a detached voice.

Maybe if he’d been more aware of his surroundings, he would have seen the way her eyes gleamed. The eagerness in her voice. “You wish to kill Timothy Drake?”

“Him too,” Jason said, feeling far, far away. “I’m going to kill both of them. Bruce too. Both of them. I’m going to kill both of them. Both.”

For the first time, Talia looked uncertain. She wavered as she tried to discern the truth of his proclamation. Then she took in Jason’s solid green eyes and relaxed.

“You don’t mean that,” she said confidently. “You are just upset and having a bad reaction. Killing Bruce would ruin your plan. You need him alive.”

“I accept your offer,” Jason said dully, still not looking directly at her.

“Excuse me?” Talia asked, puzzled and a little disconcerted. 

Emotion finally started to return to his voice as it gained an edge of anger. “The training. The resources. I’ll take them. Just make me good enough to fight him.”

Talia watched him silently for a few moments, then nodded. “Of course. We’ll begin immediately. I will send you to your first teacher as soon as you are healed. Speaking of which-“she looked critically at his hands, “you require medical attention. You’ve hurt yourself.”

Slowly and with great care, she grabbed his bicep and raised him to his feet. “We’ll move you to a different room,” she said, casting another look around the room. “This one is… insufficient.”

Jason didn’t resist as she led him around. It was almost like he’d reverted into his zombie-like state. Lost in his own mind. He moved automatically, not really hearing what Talia was saying and allowing himself to be moved wherever directed.

Eventually, Talia led him into a new bedroom that was just as fancy as the last one. His condition had not gotten any better. She gently led him to the bed and he automatically downed the teacup she handed him. It must have been laced with something because he was fast asleep just a couple minutes later.

\--------------------------------------------------------

It was a few days before Talia deemed him fit enough to be sent to his first trainer. Though he’d come out of his zombie trance after he’d slept off the drugs, his mood hadn’t changed from before. He was still angry and confused and lost and that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.

There had been a couple moments of relief where a shred of sunlight had broken through the storm. The first had been when he’d confirmed that the children had indeed been saved and brought to safety. Talia had kept her word. The second had occurred when he went back to fetch his Red X suit (which Talia had been very interested in and had hinted she might have a job for the elusive thief later).

He’d already retrieved the suit and had been on his way back when he’d seen something so unexpected, he’d actually stopped for a few seconds to check that he had seen correctly. A small smile had appeared on his lips as he took in the sight.

The little girl with the eyepatch from down the street had been sitting on her front porch brushing Cally with a little brush. And Cally had gained a collar. His heart had warmed knowing the little cat he’d cared for was safe and in good hands. The two would comfort each other, both survivors.

Those moments of relief had been short-lived though and the storm had come back full force. He’d constantly been checking his phone, obsessively Talia said, for any news from Gotham and everything he saw only made him feel worse. 

And now he was sitting in a limo with Talia being driven to the plane that would be taking him to his first trainer. He wasn’t looking at her, his focus was on the phone in his hand and the article on it. Batman and the replacement had taken down a drug ring last night. Just reading the low information article had his stomach churning violently.

He didn’t look up when Talia spoke. “Perhaps you should put the phone away for now,” she said in a neutral tone. “We will arrive at the plane soon. You’ve been staring at the device for days, it isn’t good for your eyes.”

Jason tapped the refresh button at the top of the page for about the 300th time that day, dreading a new article to appear but needing to see. “I’m fine,” he said shortly.

A slight frown appeared on her face, but she didn’t push him.

In a distant way, Jason knew he was being a bit rude, but she didn’t understand. No one could understand. No one but him. And now he had to shift the plan, improve himself, he needed even more justice than he’d originally thought. His whole life was falling apart at the seams and he didn’t know what was real and what was lies anymore. The plan was the only thing holding him together.

He tapped the refresh button again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'Habibi' means 'dear one' in Arabic. 
> 
> So I’ve been thinking and I’ve decided on which stories are going to come next. The one after this one will be Jason and Damian meeting. I haven’t decided on a title for that one yet. (Update: It will be called "An Unusual Distraction") The one after that will be a Red X vs Teen Titans story that wasn’t in the show, but let’s all be honest there totally should have been at least one more episode with him in it. Then after that I’ll do the Revved Up episode story.
> 
> P.S. I know some people wanted Jason to keep Cally as a pet, but he just moves around to much and has to deal with so many bad people and bad situations. Even keeping a normal pet would be hard for him at this stage, but a blind cat, making her have to relearn the environment each time he moved. It just makes more sense for Cally to stay with someone else.


End file.
